Glass Elephant
by Miss L. W. R
Summary: This is a oneshot of Dominique Weasley in fifth year. Read and review. It would make my day...


You stop running because if you continue you will surely collapse onto the hard packed dirt and lay there as the ink black waves crash over and over like a haunting melody. Then, even though you don't running, you still move forward unable to cease; walking towards the hill. Your hill, yours and his. Will, the name stings like venom yet you can't keep from saying it. Will. Will. Will. It stings your heart, so you cry.

When you reach the hill you fall onto the soft green grass and cold tears stream from your eyes. Green. His favorite color. You can't say the name anymore so you cry again but with different tears. Cry because you're so thick and unbelieving. Cry because Andrea is your best friend. Cry because no one's noticed. Cry because you're too polite, or so that's what they say. Cry because you are so good at hiding, at faking, at acting _fine_ that the sorting hat begged and pleaded to put you in Slytherin. You refused, maybe you shouldn't have. Cry because everything has finally broken, broken you but nothing's stopped. And cry because you love him. Absolutely love him. Not like Morgan, that was like. Cry because this is the spot you basically and obliviously simultaneously turned him down and broke your own heart. But most of all, you cry because he managed to break the wall where you hid.

Now everything's tumbled out, bruised and broken, all that is wrong with your life; in plain view, but only to you. How Maman and Dad bicker and yell every single moment, how Victoire pinches you and whispers under her breath, how Louis is probably _not_ going to turn out fine from all of this, and how everything bites into you and life slaps you in the face but you still refuse to stop loving it. How, how are you so stupid. Victoire 'bumps' into you and you still would rather cut off your right arm then see her in pain.

And so you cry.

A hill by the Black Lake fifty or so meters from where the unicorn fell, ten or so meters from where the others stood. Maybe watching, as he tried to comfort you but you, surprised that he'd followed, were scared and nervous, and in love; with him. But that moment is over. The unicorn is gone. Everything has resumed as if it had never happened. Except, it had and you remember it. Sure, you looked okay on the outside but, inside you were shattered. Not just because him but also because of Victoire and Louis. Quidditch and writers block. The block that wasn't even a block. It was a huge brick wall, as tall as a full grown giant, as long as the Black Lake and bricks a faded dusty color that had once been blood red. Shattered also because of your bloody slytheriness. And Andrea, small, cute _Andy_. You never told her. Maybe than she'd never like him, but probably not.

You stare at the cloudless grey sky and laugh without a reason. Or, maybe the reason is how silly this comes out sounding. All that's wrong with your life and you choose to get the most upset over a boy. Then laugh and laugh without stopping because you really are so pathetic. Laugh at the pigeon feather sky and black glass lake. Laugh for the sake of laughing. Then, stop; because you just caught yourself red handed. Stop because you realize you're trying to lie to yourself again. Your slytheriness is trying to trick you. You're trying to convince yourself your fine, good as new.

Now you're oddly still, absolutely still, no streaming tears or fake laughter and you stare at the empty sky.

Till silently, sad, hot, real tears slowly drip down from your blue eyes. _Wipe that little bit of sad from those pieces of sky and have them dance for me. There's a good girl. _That's what your dad would say. The sun is setting, turning the grey sky to a rosy pink. It's time to return to the castle so you pick the blades of grass off your black robes and start walking.

You're halfway across the quidditch pitch, with your tower in sight, his tower, your tower, Gryffindor tower; when you realize that the tears washed away that big, brick wall and your writers block is gone. Which means even though you're shattered you'll still piece yourself back together with words; and then, you will be able to save the piece of Dom that you miss the most, her soul. And it comes to you.

A glass elephant. You're a glass elephant; strong and beautiful but glass, ever breakable. A glass elephant. Returning to a world of clubs, bats and talking ears. When you break no one knows but you, and you will never forget. After all, does an elephant ever forget?


End file.
